


Graduation Day

by Duck_Life



Category: New X-Men: Academy X, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Anger, Child Death, Child Soldiers, Gen, Graduation, Uncanny X-Men #11 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 07:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17700311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: Victor Borkowski gives a speech.





	Graduation Day

“No more kid stuff. Today's graduation day.” Cyclops regards the embattled students— Rockslide, Pixie, Prodigy. The others, wandering through the halls like ghosts. “You're X-Men now.”

* * *

The rule is that everyone who enrolled during the first rebuild, them and everyone before them— everyone who was here on M-Day— would be given an X badge and promoted to full service in the field.

Victor Borkowski takes his suit out of his closet, considers ironing it. What would be the point? He puts it on and goes to the auditorium. 

Cyclops gives a speech. He looks off-balance without Emma standing beside him. The words echo inside Vic's skull, bouncing around, meaningless, and then Cyclops is looking at him and he doesn't know why, can't remember the last thing Cyclops said. 

Santo nudges him from behind. “Dude. I think you're valedictorian.”

Fuck.

Vic stands, straightens up, wishes he'd ironed his suit. Every step up to the podium leaves his legs feeling heavier. When he finally reaches the microphone, his ears are ringing. 

“Thank you, Mr. Summers,” he says, his voice just as echoey and unreal as Cyclops had sounded in his head. “Well.” The stage lights are bright. It occurs to him that if he really wanted to, he could fade out and disappear into the texture of the curtain behind him. He doesn't do that. Instead he says, “We made it. Congratulations.” Hollow words, ringing ears, bright lights. “When I look around this room…” His head is pounding. His lungs feel like rocks in his chest. “When I look around this room… all I see… all I see are empty seats.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Cyclops’ posture shift, like he's going to pull Victor aside. Victor keeps going. 

“I see an empty seat where Ruth Aldine should be sitting,” he says, and his hands are shaking but his voice is even. “One beside her where Alani Ryan would be. I see an empty seat where Jay Guthrie belongs. Laurie Collins, too. Kevin Ford. Sidney Green. I see an empty seat where Noah Crichton would be if he hadn't drowned in the pool. I see a seat where Brian Cruz should be sitting. I see… I see 42 bus seats.”

Cyclops is there, Cyclops is reaching for the microphone. “Victor… maybe—”

“ _ No,”  _ Vic says, jerking away from him, the microphone clutched in his hand. “We made it.” When did he start crying? “Congratulations. Surge, Mercury, Indra, Hellion. We made it. I lost an arm. I know Julian, you lost your hands. And Megan? God… we came to this school and we lost pieces of ourselves and you know what that makes us? Lucky. Luckier than most of our classmates.”

Cyclops isn't trying to take the microphone away anymore. 

“Congratulations, guys. We made it.” He swallows, tastes bile in the back of his throat, feels his heart knocking against his ribs. “I, uhm. I’m Facebook friends with Teddy Altman. For those of you who don’t know who that is, he also goes by Hulkling. He’s one of the Young Avengers. And… and one day, when the Terrigen Mists were first dispersing across the country, I asked him… I said, Teddy, how do you do it? How do you deal with watching your friends die, year after year, with no way to stop it?” 

Vic pauses, grips the microphone tighter. “And he said… he said, ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Because all the Young Avengers— hey, David— they’re still alive. They haven’t been blown up or shot or sent to Hell. And when Teddy told me that, I realized…  _ this isn’t normal _ . The way we live our lives, expecting every moment that we’re going to die… I mean, kids our age are going on road trips! Getting smoothies! Going on dates! We  _ try _ to do all that but the whole time we’re thinking, ‘This could be my last day on earth.’ And that’s  _ not _ normal.”

“Living with the X-Men has made it feel normal. And that was wrong. All due respect, Cyclops, Havok… and I thank you, Karma and Mirage, for everything you did for us. I really do. But things need to change. No more empty seats. No more running for our lives. If you can’t give us a place where we’re safe, we will build our own. I swear.”

“And I know… I know there are kids here who aren't graduating today. Students younger than me, and students who didn't get their powers until after M-Day. And I want you to know, all of you— Shark Girl, Eye Boy, Nature Girl, everyone.” He swallows, his mouth feels dry, the auditorium is silent and still.

“The X-Men couldn't protect my graduating class. They couldn't protect us.” The lights are bright and still all he can see is empty seats. But he knows they're out there. “We are damn sure going to protect you.”

The first noise he hears is the booming, thunderous sound of Santo Vaccarro clapping. 


End file.
